


Dream

by intoxicatedcinnamon (orphan_account)



Series: Letters to Haru [6]
Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Smut, Love Letters, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:24:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5631481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/intoxicatedcinnamon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Makoto's dreams of Haru... are not so pure sometimes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream

**Author's Note:**

> I won't be posting as regularly anymore cos it's my A level year and I'm freaking out hahahaha but thank you to all you lovely pumpkins who read this! :D Kudos and comments are very much appreciated!!
> 
> p.s. I wrote this while chairing a model UN conference lols let's hope they never find out

Dear Haru, 

I had a dream that you kissed me.  
It was in the morning and everything was warm, you were  
in my bed  
and your legs were tangled with mine and you pulled my face nearer  
like you really wanted me to kiss you back. And your skin was so familiar,  
your hands were roaming down my back and you weren’t wearing a shirt

Your eyes were so dark, like you trusted me completely—  
the sunlight was falling in small streams across the sheets: it lit you up,  
Haru’s hands were rough from the pool and I could feel the callus on your thumb that you have because you’ve refused to change the way you hold pens and somehow I just kept wanting more, wanted my skin to be changed by you. 

And you made sounds when I grabbed at your waist and kissed you hard,  
little murmurs and panting breaths between the moving of our mouths  
you sounded so _good_ Haru, I dreamt you wanted me as much as I’ve ever wanted you 

Shit, Haru-chan 

I want to touch you,  
want you to touch me back, I want to hear what kind of sounds you make.  
I’ve grown up knowing your voice but I want to hear you calling my name in a whimper,  
your hair mussed and our hands clasping,  
lying back on the sheets with your legs around my waist—would you mind?  
Or mine around yours. 

Sometimes when you come over, you make little sounds in your sleep  
when you stretch, when your head nestles into the pillow,  
I think you’ll drive me artistically crazy someday because you have no idea  
how erotic you look at night, with your shirt riding up when you shift  
and long eyelashes resting on your cheeks. I would run my hands down your stomach to feel how beautiful you are  
trace the line of your calf with my tongue. I think about kissing and sucking at the hollows at your throat  
and the inside of your ankle while your face shyly flushes awake. 

Do you do it to yourself when you’re alone at night too? 

You know where I’m ticklish, where to place your palms when I break down in your arms,  
just how much space to leave for me when we sit on a bench.  
You know how to straighten your shoulders when I’m afraid,  
_you know when I’m afraid._  
But we could relearn each other to fit all these other things in  
bit by bit, hour by sun-soaked hour.  
I dream of seeing you in the light.


End file.
